Inquiries in Orange
by DistrictNineAndThreeQuarters
Summary: This is Fred Weasley we're talking about. He can't just ask an important question like a normal human being. A mischievous Fred, a suspicious Hermione, and a mysterious orange potion.


A/N: Just a short fic set in GoF. I'm pretty sure I'll keep it a one-shot, but if enough people request it or if I really want to, I'll write some sort of follow-up chapter. Read and review, please!

* * *

**Inquiries in Orange**

"Really?"

Two pairs of curious blue eyes looked up to address the disapproving voice. An intensely irritated Hermione was standing with her hands on her hips in her best imitation of Molly Weasley, though the normally frightening effect was somewhat negated by the way the potion's fumes made her hair even puffier than normal and the fact that she was in her pyjamas.

"What brings you down here this fine evening, 'Mione?"

The sleep-starved fourth year glowered at the insolent redheads. "Morning, George. It is morning," she grit out through clenched teeth. "Two in the morning, to be precise."

"One fifty eight, actually," the other twin corrected with a cheeky grin. Hermione's nostrils flared in anger.

"What in Merlin's great name are you two oafs doing?"

"Oafs?" Fred wondered, turning to his twin with a confused expression. "I don't see any oafs in here."

"Do you think she means..."

"She couldn't possibly be referring to..."

"Us?" they said together in shocked disbelief.

"We, Madame, are creating!" George announced indignantly, waving his potion ladle through the air dramatically and, much to Hermione's dismay, splashing some of the smoking orange concoction across an unlucky rug on the common room floor.

"Dare I ask what?"

They flashed her identical grins. "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies!"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't dismantle all of this," Hermione demanded.

"Uh...well...erm...because..." George tried, racking his brain frantically.

"Hey, Hermione," Fred interjected. "Your teeth look nice...did you shrink them somehow?"

Hermione looked at him with confusion, slightly taken aback. Instinctively, her hand went to her mouth and she felt her two front teeth which had, of course, been magically reduced in size by an unwitting Madame Pomfrey.

"How...how did you notice? Even Harry and Ron didn't..." the girl said, flustered. With an odd sound somewhere between frustrated and indignant, she turned away from the twins and darted back up the stairs, leaving their mysterious (and most likely explosive) project still very much intact.

* * *

"You're sure this is the one she'll take?" Fred asked his twin cautiously.

George nodded. "Positive. I mean, it's pretty obvious."

"True, true."

George held the thick, battered tome up in one hand. The cover was raggedy with age and the corners were bent. "It wouldn't take a genius to assumed she'll be reading this one."

"'Hogwarts: A History'…why am I not surprised?" Fred said, rolling his eyes.

George snickered. "Okay, quick, before she realises she left it behind."

Snapping back to focus, Fred drizzled some of the orange potion over the cover of Hermione's beloved book. With a quick eye-sweep of the common room—no one looked suspicious, so he figured they were in the clear—he dropped the empty crystal vile back into a pocket of his robes and took a seat next to George, trying to look as natural as possible.

"Have you two seen my copy of 'Hogwarts: A History'?" Hermione asked as she entered the common room a few minutes later, the usual underlying exhaustion and stress apparent in her voice.

"Yeah, we were wondering why you left it," George said innocently, gesturing to the book lying alone on a table, displaying no evidence of tricks or tampering.

She eyed the notorious pranksters distrustfully but, after a moment, decided rather against her better judgment to just take the book and go back to the library for some peace and quiet. As she left, Fred shot her a rather obvious wink.

'Did Fred Weasley just wink at me?!' Hermione's thoughts went slightly haywire as she turned and clamoured through the portrait hole, hoping he hadn't seen the dark blush bloom across her face.

* * *

Hermione fought to keep her eyes open as she perused her favourite book. Not that it wasn't interesting, but the hours were wearing on and she was getting quite tired.

Suddenly, the black lettering seemed to be changing somehow. The words formed into squiggles, reshaping across the page. Hermione's eyes widened in panic and horror and she dropped the book to the floor as though it was cursed. Which, she realised, it probably was.

The once-familiar text transformed from black to a bright, obnoxious orange. With an instant flash of anger, she recognised the colour as the same shade she had seen in the twins' cauldron the previous night. She was going to murder them!

Apprehensively, she chanced another look at the discarded text, which now lay open on the ground.

"Hermione..." the page read, written in messy cursive scrawl. She groaned and pulled her knees to her chest, dreading whatever was coming next.

But she was in for quite a surprise.

The letters reformed again, and she read them out to herself as they glided over the page as though being written by an invisible hand.

"Would you like to be my date to the Yule Ball? - Fred."

The writing stopped for a few moments before starting again. "Pretty please?"

She laughed to herself and snatched the book up, sprinting out of the library and up towards Gryffindor Tower in search of Fred.


End file.
